Against All Authority
by desert anbu
Summary: AU – Voltaire wants him as a puppet, the media wants him for ratings, fangirls want him for...well. And the one he lives with? She doesn't want him at all. KaiOC DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

_AU – Imagine a world in which your entire life was laid out before you with no way of running away. There are no thoughts as to what your dreams and wants are, only those of your superiors and/or your elders. A world in which you are nothing more than a puppet in a Machiavellian society that dictates your every move. Then imagine an escape is revealed in the most unlikely of places that can bring all restrictions tumbling down._

* * *

I said I would revise this, and… I did. Whoopsha to me.

Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, e-mailed, instant messaged me – whether it be AIM or MSN – or just bugged me over comments on DA or summat, I thank ye all. And for those of you who only gave me their wishes telepathically, I heard them in my dreams and no I will not submit to bribes of cars and ponies.

Cookies and bishies work much better. XD

**NOTE:** Rating is subject to change due to language, sexuality, and varied adult situations.

Daisuke: MI doesn't own Beyblade or its characters, but she does own her characters and the plot.

Thanks, Daisuke. ::snug:: And now, on with the fic!

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_Against All Authority_

_Prologue _

* * *

_September 5th, 1994___

The eleven-year-old stood in the doorway of the 'playroom' within the Taylor estate. Having been instructed by his grandfather to remain out of sight until he was summoned, he had wandered the corridors and various rooms of the mansion until he had found a pair of large double doors thrown wide open. While there was hardly any furniture within the large room, there were mountains of toys that had been neatly placed in various places. Stuffed animals lined the shelves in a wide range of species including wolves, horses, foxes, and a splattering of dragons. Each animal was made of vibrant fabrics in varying textures and seemed to be made especially for the room's owner.

Silver brows knitted together in a frown as he took in the state of wear on the other toys. A large toy box whose sole purpose seemed to be to hold balls of all kinds – soccer, football, tennis, baseball, and so on – and in various stages of use.

A pair of gloves made for small hands had been thrown on the floor, next to which lay a hockey stick and a puck with a chipped rim, all three objects marked with grass stains, streaks of dirt, and black marks that had to have come from pavement.

The boy cautiously made his way across the room, careful as to not disturb any of the toys, and paused in front of the toy chest. Even though he knew exactly what these toys were and what they were used for, he had never in his life been given the chance to play with them. Such things had been strictly forbidden for as long as he could remember and probably would remain that way for a long time afterward.

He had no idea why he had been told to accompany his grandfather on his trip to the Taylor estate, but he knew that he would be told soon enough. Unless he found out for himself, of course. A large clue had been the fact that Voltaire Hiwatari had refused to let him wear his usual clothes and instead had given him an expensive three-piece suit to wear, the fact that he disliked his new state of dress notwithstanding. To his absolute horror, his nursemaid had been instructed to scrub him thoroughly from head to toe and to make sure that he looked his absolute best for this visit.

On occasion he wondered if his grandfather forgot that he was nearly twelve years old and could take a bath on his own, thank you very much.

"Hey, you! Catch!"

Kai barely had enough time to turn around before a round object struck his shoulder and sent him back a step to regain his balance. It took him only a second to realize what had happened and then his crimson eyes lifted to lock on a small girl standing on the opposite side of the room, a bemused look on her young face. "What was that for?" he demanded, unwilling to admit that her throw had _hurt_.

The girl ignored his question and frowned, her abnormally large amethyst eyes narrowed. "You were _supposed_ to catch it, dummy."

"You could have warned me first," Kai retorted, not seeming to notice that years of training in social etiquette had been thrown out the window the moment he had been hit by the baseball. Now, he was no longer the heir to a multibillion-dollar corporation but an extremely ticked off eleven-year-old boy.

"I _did_." The girl gave him an annoyed look and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a surprisingly cold glare. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"What's it to you, pipsqueak?" Oh yes, social niceties were definitely out the window.

"This is _my_ playroom, stupid," she shot back, apparently offended by his insult. Truth be told, she was on the small side, even for a girl her age – which was nine – and whenever teased about her height she was quick to anger. What she didn't know was that it had been the first time he had ever called anyone names or even been in the general vicinity of another child, but when it came to verbal sparring, he was a natural.

Logically speaking, her statement had very little ground on which to attach believability on it. Her appearance was not that of an heir to a powerful company but that of a common child of the inner city. Clad in a pair of gray shorts that reached her knees and were covered in grass stains, a loose blue T-shirt that had several streaks of dirt across them and ratty black sneakers, she looked extremely out of place in the elaborately furnished mansion. Even her hair, which appeared to be a silvery color, was pulled into a messy braid that hung down to her shoulder blades, unruly bangs tipped blue hanging in her small face. While it was plausible that she had at least used these toys – and this observation was supported by the fact that she seemed completely comfortable and familiar with her surroundings – it was extremely unlikely that she was, in fact, the young mistress Taylor.

Fairly positive that his observations were correct, Kai gave her a glare of his own. "It is not, you liar."

"Is so!" she yelled, stamping her foot in frustration. "Go away!"

"Make me."

"Fine!"

To say that Kai was surprised by her advancement was an understatement. He hadn't actually thought she would make him leave, but she seemed fully prepared to do just that. Armed with a baseball bat she stomped toward him and leveled him with a glare that could almost match that of his grandfather, and that was a frightening thought in and of itself.

Unsure of how to deal with this situation, Kai backed up a step and his hand reached back to grab the first thing he touched: a hockey stick.

When the two objects collided, Kai swiftly realized that not only was she experienced with this sort of thing, but also much stronger than she looked. The battle moved to a large cleared area and they traded blows and insults. At least until she somehow overpowered him and sent him sprawling flat on his back, the hockey stick knocked away. In a movement faster than would seem possible for a tiny person such as she, she straddled his stomach and pinned his arms down on the floor before he could push her off, effectively holding him in place.

Furious with the fact that he had been bested by a nine-year-old _girl_, Kai growled and tried to throw her off but her weight was thrown on his upper body and there was little he could do with his legs. Apparently she was quite well versed in situations like this.

"Say you're sorry," she commanded imperiously.

Kai glared at her and struggled against her hands but she refused to let go. "Why should I?"

Her grip tightened, her fingers digging into his flesh and he winced. "I _said_ say you're sorry!"

"I don't have to apologize to the likes of _you._"

Once again her grip tightened and he fought back a yell of pain. "Say it!"

His hands were beginning to go numb from the pressure on his wrists and with the added weight on his stomach he found that he was most uncomfortable and despite the humiliation of being bested, he realized that there wasn't much he could do. Unless…

Kai threw his weight forward and turned his legs until he had the girl on her back and their roles were reversed. Wrists pinned above her head and legs caught between his, she was now stuck and absolutely furious, hissing and spitting like a wildcat.

"What in the world is going on?!"

* * *

Instead of being hauled off to their guardians, the young woman who became known as the girl's nursemaid Sarah, dragged the two children by the ear into an adjacent room and sat them down on opposite sides, stopping to stand between them. Hands on her hips, her glare shifted from the girl to the boy and then back again. The children continued to glare at each other across the room and the nursemaid threw up her hands in exasperation.

"All right, you two. Now tell me what happened and _maybe_ I won't go and tell your father, Riley, or your grandfather, Kai." Her eyes narrowed further upon seeing the looks of terror on the children's' faces and then her face softened. She had heard rumors of Voltaire Hiwatari's ruthless demeanor and it seemed only common sense to her that the boy would be subject to that temperament and would fear it, although she was unsure if it was fear of his grandfather's disappointment or punishment that brought out the look on the boy's face.

The situation was described after several squabbles for the floor and a few more threats by the nursemaid and it took nearly a half hour to sort out what had happened. While neither child could take the full blame, she knew that the responsibility would essentially fall on Riley's shoulders once her father found out. However, there was always an alternative.

"Now I want you both to apologize and do it nicely or I'll have to call in your guardians." Sarah watched with fierce eyes as both children continued to glare at one another but slowly made their way across the room to stand in front of the nursemaid and reluctantly shake each other's hand. They released as though they had been burned and continued to glare, but managed to mumble their apologies and that seemed to be enough for Sarah. It was highly unlikely that she would get anything better out of the two children, anyway. Things would only get worse once they found out the reason behind the visit.

* * *

The reason behind the visit was soon revealed, although Riley only understood part of it and her dissatisfaction was voiced immediately – "But I don't wanna get married!" Kai, on the other hand, looked as though he would be very happy to tear something apart. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond their control – and the silent threat of punishment from their guardians – they had no choice.

It would be on this day, ten years later, the betrothed heirs would be joined in holy matrimony until death do them part.

Even to the casual observer the statement had a decidedly ominous feel to it.

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_-- To Be Continued --_

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Gotta thank Jac once again for looking over this for me and giving me advice. She's sorta become my unofficial beta-reader. :P

**Chapter One:** It's been ten years since the betrothal was formed and while the situation hasn't changed, the two heirs in question have…

Next chapter should be out relatively soon, but while you're waiting please leave a review. All comments are accepted – constructive criticism is nice… – but flames will more or less be ignored.

-- Midnight Insanity


	2. Chapter One

Sorry for the long wait between updates, you guys! I tried this time, I really did.

Thanks to **Galux Kitty** and **Anh D-ao** for helping me out on this one. You guys rock! Thanks also to those who have reviewed. ::gives hugs and cookies to reviewers::

Rating changed to R due to language. XD

Disclaimer was stated in previous chapter, therefore I'm not going to repeat myself. XD

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_Against All Authority_

_Chapter One_

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_August 25th, 2004___

Eleven days. Eleven more days of freedom before he was tied down to a girl that he had only seen three times in his entire life.

Eleven more days before his life became even further sealed in his grandfather's plans.

Kai Hiwatari sighed heavily and took his time in studying the foyer of the mansion that had been left to him in his father's will. The walls had been painted white, shockingly bright against the deep mahogany of the wooden outline that ran along the floor and around any door or window. Large marble tiles lined the floors, although they were occasionally covered by a large throw rug, and small light fixtures placed at even intervals bathed the corridor in a warm glow.

Satisfied for the time being, Kai removed his shoes and began wandering around his new home.

Every room was beautifully furnished and well lit, although they seemed a bit too cheery for his taste. The curtains had been thrown open to allow what remained of the sun's dying light to fill the room, although he took some comfort in the fact that said curtains were a dark burgundy instead of something bright, like cream, or white.

The library was an enormous affair with a high ceiling – at least two stories tall – and shelves that reached the very top. Books lined every shelf, most of which charted family history and state affairs, but quite a few – especially in the southern section – were novels, something that his mother had requested long ago. The drapes had been pulled back to reveal huge windows with padded seats accompanied with an assortment of pillows and an odd blanket or two for those colder nights. The hearth at the north end was ready to house a roaring fire, and the throw rug in front of it with a comfortable sofa and a collection of chairs were arranged for a small gathering of guests.

The main doors to the library opened and Kai turned his head to see the chief of staff, an elderly man of sixty, step inside and bow. "Master Kai, your grandfather awaits your presence at the Taylor estate."

A flickering of an expression rippled over his features and although it only lasted a split second, he knew that the chief of staff had recognized it to be a grimace. Edward had been his personal servant for as long as he could remember, and knew him like no other. Hence the reasoning behind appointing him to the rank of chief of staff in his charge's new home.

"Shall I have Victor wait a bit longer, sir?"

Kai mentally shook himself. "No, have the car brought around." His eyes closed as he banished all anger and frustration of being caged like an animal from his mind and was left with only an obedient servant to the inexorable hands of fate.

* * *

"My Lord Taylor, I would like to reintroduce you to my grandson, Kai Hiwatari."

"Forgive me if I do not stand to greet you." Richard Taylor, a forty-seven year old man that moved like one fifty years his senior, smiled kindly upon the Hiwatari heir and dipped his head in greeting instead. A strange illness had sapped what strength he had over the past year and had left little more than a skeletal creature confined to a wheelchair.

Kai bowed politely and took the seat offered to him by a wave of Taylor's hand. He sat facing his grandfather and his host at an angle, leaving only one chair empty in the room, which he assumed would be occupied by the girl soon enough.

"How long has it been since I have seen you last?" Taylor asked him, slowly lifting a cup of tea to his lips and taking a small sip.

"Six years, sir," Kai replied, accepting the cup and saucer that had been placed before him on the coffee table.

Taylor nodded and carefully set his cup down again. "It seems like it was only yesterday…" A wistful smile touched his thin lips. "But it must seem a long time to you."

"It does," he admitted, casting a quick glance at his grandfather out of the corner of his eye. Voltaire sat with his back ramrod straight, both hands resting on the head of his cane, his sharp eyes watching his grandson's every move, seeking the perfection that he had drilled into his head from the day he came to live under his protection.

"I do not mean to sound rude, Taylor, but when will we meet Miss Riley?" Voltaire inquired politely, although only Kai noticed the steely tone of disapproval in his voice. Voltaire was a stickler for punctuality, and the girl was already a quarter of an hour late.

Richard Taylor smiled and lifted a hand to beckon to a servant that stood ready at the door. The young woman swiftly moved to her master's side and bent to listen to what he had to say. After a moment she answered back and with a curt nod as a dismissal, she left the room. "I apologize for my daughter's absence, Hiwatari, for she is currently getting ready. She had been invited to a surprise party at the mansion of a friend and stayed quite late. She will arrive soon."

Although not satisfied, Voltaire chose not to push the issue. "Good, good. And just how is your daughter? Is she in good health?"

A flicker of laughter seemed to shine in the man's eyes before he nodded his head and took another painfully slow sip of tea. "She is in perfect health, I assure you. Still as bright and lively as the day she was born." His voice was full of pride and he shook his head again before turning to look at Kai. "Forgive my rudeness. How are you, Kai? Your grandfather has told me of your achievements, and may I offer my congratulations?" The approval in his eyes shone, but there was still a flicker of suspicion, a slight doubt that things might not be the way he had hoped.

"Thank you, sir." Kai bowed his head and offered him a tiny smile.

* * *

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_" A string of unintelligible curses followed and those around her looked on with amusement. She had been reminded of her appointment with her father and betrothed and was now hurriedly stripping off the plastic armor that protected her from the small balls of paint that were an integral part of the game.

"You're a master of linguistics, you know that, Riles?" a tall redhead teased, cerulean eyes glinting with mischief through the paint-streaked mask he wore.

"Shut _up_, Volkov!" Riley Taylor threw her roller blade at him and shoved her feet into her sneakers, jumping up and grabbing her keys from the cubbyhole. "Mel, beat the crap outta him for me."

A slender figure clad entirely in black save the blue streaks of paint that spotted her plastic-protected costume lifted her paintball gun and promptly shot the redhead in the chest, splattering him with green paint. "Will do."

"Ow! Dammit, that was harsh!" Tala Volkov regained his balance after nearly falling flat on his back and gave the girl an injured look.

Instead of answering, Mel pointed the nozzle of her gun at him again in a silent threat.

"Good luck, Taylor!" The stocky form of Johnny McGregor moved into the light momentarily, pushing up his mask to flash her a superior smirk. "You're gonna need it."

"Save it, McGregor, you're gonna be the one that needs it when I come back to kick your ass," she retorted, chucking her plastic breastplate at him for good measure.

* * *

Her gloved hands reached the windowsill and she pulled the small rubber strap that had been attached to the bottom of the window just for purposes such as this and she ducked as the window swung open. Then, placing as much weight on her hands as she could, she vaulted through the open window and landed in a three-point on the floor of her bedroom. She whipped around and leaned over the sill to make sure that the trellis – which had been a makeshift ladder for escapes or entrances like this for years – was still intact. Satisfied that it was for the time being, she turned from the window and stripped off her T-shirt and shorts, kicking off her sneakers as she headed toward the bathroom door.

Despite the fact that the hot water felt good against her skin, she could only spend a few minutes in the shower before she had to step out again and dry off, entering her room again with a towel wrapped around her body and her long hair coiled on top of her head. "Mari!"

A second later a girl her age with long pink hair slipped into the room, her golden eyes glittering with amusement upon seeing her distraught mistress. "Yes, mistress?"

"I told you to stop calling me that." Riley made an impatient wave of her hand and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're going to make me change if I dress myself, so I'm cutting out the middle man."

Mariah grinned and Riley watched as she disappeared into her walk-in closet and rummaged around until she found something she liked. A bit skeptical of what Mariah would choose for her, she sat down on the stool in front of her vanity – if it could be called that, it was piled with books, CDs, and random papers instead of makeup and hairbrushes – and jiggled her foot.

"Excited?" Mariah asked as she emerged from the closet, several items draped over her arm.

Riley scowled and leveled her with a glare. "Extremely."

The pink-haired fashion designer grinned and shook her head, holding up the outfit for Riley to see. "I know you hate skirts, but it's long and pretty loose-"

"Still a skirt."

Mariah ignored her. "And the shirt is comfortable, you've worn it before-"

"And I said then that I wouldn't wear it again."

Again, Mariah continued on as though she had not spoken. "And then there's the jacket and the shoes. Now get dressed."

Riley stuck her tongue out and took the clothes, stalking off into her closet to put them on. Quickly pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she dropped the towel the moment the door closed and slipped on a pair of black string bikini-style underwear and a matching bra, a bit miffed because she couldn't wear her more comfortable black sports bra instead. The remainder of her outfit she looked upon with distaste, but she put them on anyway.

The skirt hung from her hips in a soft ripple of black fabric, the hem brushing the skin just below her knees. A shimmering silver mesh outer skirt hung even lower, swirling around her ankles when she moved, held up by a thin chain that wrapped tightly around her hips and then wrapped around again to hang loosely on her thigh, a small gem sparkling where it had been encased in the silver clasp. The shirt was a simple pale blue tank top made of satin with a modest neckline and a hem that just covered the top of her skirt. Over this she wore a black jacket that laced up the front like a corset, the sleeves flaring delicately from her elbows to her wrists.

Shoes in hand, Riley exited the closet and dropped down on the stool, turning her back to Mariah who immediately set to work on her hair. With the gentle tug of the comb and the sound of Mariah quietly humming to herself, Riley was slowly lulled into a calmer state and she began to relax. She had been trying to forget about her upcoming marriage to one Kai Hiwatari for so many years now it seemed impossible to be so close. She would be married to someone she had met only three times in her entire life in eleven days and would be stuck with him forever after.

A groan of anguish escaped her and she heaved a world-weary sigh as Mariah finished combing her hair and began pulling it up on top of her head, pinning and twisting until it was secure. Riley lifted a brow and watched her through the mirror take a step back to admire her work and nod in approval. "Well?"

"You clean up rather nicely." Mariah patted her shoulder and Riley rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You are now fit to be seen in public." She howled with laughter as she ran out of the room to avoid the book that was thrown at her.

* * *

A muffled curse brought his attention to the door and Kai turned his head to see a young woman that looked to be no older than sixteen standing in front of the closed door, rubbing her ankle and glaring at the black sandal on her foot. It wasn't enough to draw the attention of the two older men of the room, but it was to alert Kai and he watched her in mild curiosity – it wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway.

The girl straightened and brushed stray strands of silver hair out of her face, revealing large amethyst eyes framed with long, dark lashes. The rest of her hair was piled in an artful mess on top of her head, long tendrils falling down to brush the back of her neck and shoulders. Silver hoops, cuffs, and chains hung from her ears in an impossibly elaborate maze and it seemed so out of place with the elegant outfit that fit so perfectly to her soft curves.

He felt her gaze on him and he inclined his head in silent inquiry, a bit amused by her blatant curiosity. Who was this girl?

After a few moments of an outright staring contest, the corners of the girl's full mouth tilted upward into a tiny smirk. "Hey, Blue. Long time no see."

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_-- To Be Continued --_

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I just love Riley's version of paintball. XD

**Chapter Two:** Tea, a little glimpse into the future, and a rekindling of an old flame.

… This is going to be fun.

Review!


	3. Chapter Two

Supersupersuper short update here, this time. Sorry, guys! But this chapter had to be included and I couldn't put any more into it without killing the mood it set, so here it is. Next chapter will be longer, I promise!

If you want to know the story of Riley's life paralleling the canon series, check out my newest fic _Stronger Than This_. If you like this fic or any of my others, I'm pretty sure you'll like this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or its characters, they belong to Aoki Takao-sama. I do, however, own my characters and the plot.

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_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Two_

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After a long argument over how the ceremony should take place, the two empires were finally able to come to an agreement. The pair would be married by a justice of the peace for a number of reasons, the greatest of which being the fact that the bride had threatened to stab Voltaire Hiwatari with a hairpin if he dared make her wear a white dress in front of hundreds of people. This, of course, never reached the old Russian's ears.

It did, however, provide an enormous amount of amusement for the Taylor staff that had been present during this exclamation.

All other appointments were cancelled – the priest and caterer could finally relax now that the enormous weight was off their shoulders – and the servants of both houses were overjoyed. Whatever provided less work for them was always a cause for celebration.

It was what had been termed The Assimilation that had become the chief problem. The staff of both houses was left with the enormously difficult task of bringing the new masters' possessions to their new home. Since this was the first time both staffs were together for a long period of time, tension was high and several arguments broke out. The most memorable battle, oddly enough, was over garage space.

At her father's estate, Riley had had the entire garage to herself. Because her father refused to step within its boundaries – he had stated on numerous occasions that it was not befitting the nobility to touch such filth – it left his daughter with the wiggle room she needed to make the garage her domain. Or one of them, rather. Along with the family cars – the limousines and such that would not be moved – were two motorcycles, a flashy sports car, and a workshop. While she was not much of a mechanic herself, she learned what she could from her trusted friend and personal mechanic, Ozuma. He delighted in being given a new car part to experiment with or a wrecked car to fix. Over the years the pair had acquired quite the collection and neither were willing to part with any of it.

This was the core of the problem. There was not enough garage space to fit the workshop in with the bride and groom's cars at the same time, and leaving any of their precious vehicles exposed to the elements was completely out of the question.

So intense was the argument that the two chiefs of staff were called in to decide – or rather referee, as it were – what it was they should do. After much deliberation, a brilliant idea suggested by none other than Edward was put forth and then the garage was transformed with a flurry of activity.

Because there wasn't to be a ceremony, the entire event had been thrown into a state of utter chaos. What had been an elaborate setup was now a ridiculously simple signing of papers. Voltaire found it to be an insult to his station in society but he was outvoted, although he didn't learn until much later that the bride had counted her own vote twice. Furious with this turn of events, Voltaire forbade any interaction between the betrothed until the day of the wedding, which suited the pair just fine.

But Voltaire didn't need to know that.

* * *

**_– Tsudzuku –_**

**_

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_**

Short but to the point. Woohoo. Some action is in store for the next chapter, and a little hilarity if I can scrunch it in. XD

Review!

– Midnight Insanity


	4. Chapter Three

Faster update than usual, go me. XDD

This chapter is dedicated to Gems, 'cause I luff her muchos and because I can. XD This is for you, nee-sama!!

Disclaimer: stated before, I'm not repeating myself.

Enjoy! And please review!

* * *

_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Three_

* * *

_September 5th, 2004_

Somehow, through a great deal of persuasion, both parties, officially sealing the names of Taylor and Hiwatari in holy matrimony, signed the proper papers. Or of something vaguely equivalent.

A slight skirmish broke out upon the announcement of an elaborate party to celebrate – in which Riley was the chief focus, loudly stating her objections to sitting anywhere near from the "bloody bastard with a huge stick up his ass," although most of the confusion was for which "bloody bastard" she was talking about, for it could be one of three – but was smoothed over by a few well chosen words from a trusted comrade. This did not mean, of course, that a quiet stream of colorful curses was not uttered at every chance. Most of the complaints were directed not at the party, but at the fact that directly after the party was the official joining, which meant that her new home would be with her husband.

Because of the newly joined couple, the party was to be held at the new Hiwatari-Taylor estate. This left an enormous burden on the chief of staff, but Edward proved himself more than up to the task. With all the experience his sixty years provided, Edward pulled through in a pinch.

The modestly elegant furnishings of the mansion were beautifully accented by strategically placed floral arrangements, every one showing off the vibrant colors of both houses: royal purple, rich navy blue, burning crimson, and virginal white. Lightly brocaded table runners lay over mahogany tables, offering appetizers and treats to the crowd of guests that had gathered in the dining hall. Small groups of richly dressed lords and ladies clustered about the refreshments, most holding delicate wine glasses in their gloved fingers.

As host, Kai had to be a part of the inane chitchat and gossip, moving from one group to another with an ease borne of long practice. The first chance he got to escape he took gladly, slipping back into the shadows to stand beside his chief of staff.

Wine glass in hand, Kai surveyed the crowd, finally nodding his head once in approval. "You did well, Edward," he acknowledged, lifting the glass to his lips to drain the rest of the burgundy liquid it held. It was his first drink of the evening, but it would not be his last. He was looking forward to being pleasantly buzzed by the end of the party. Like hell he was going to bed sober.

"Thank you, sir." Edward inclined his head and allowed a small smile to grace his aged features. Kai didn't doubt for a second that Edward knew of his intentions.

"Congratulations again, Young Lord Hiwatari!" Lord Barthez, a business associate of Voltaire's, called, lifting his hands in greeting to accompany his broad smile, the sort of smile that didn't reach his eyes. He clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder, sweeping his free arm to indicate the rest of the hall. "Beautiful estate, my boy. You must be quite proud."

The corner of his mouth tilted upward in a parody of a smile as he eased slowly out of the older man's embrace, careful so as not to offend him. "Thank you, Lord Barthez," he said politely, keeping his expression neutral as he received a barely perceptible nod from Edward. The chief of staff bowed deeply, making a smooth, unnoticed exit to run the festivities from backstage. Now that he had gotten his master's approval, he knew what was expected of him and would do it.

He had to find, and present, the newest addition to the Hiwatari empire.

* * *

"I _hate_ this!"

Mariah Wong smiled slightly, having already heard that exclamation ten times since her mistress had first put on the gown. Despite the fact that the slight girl hated the outfit, it didn't change the fact that she looked stunning.

A long, sleek black skirt clung to softly curved hips, falling down into an elegant train at her feet, occasionally showing off the clear strappy heels on her small feet. The top was a tricky number, fashioned after the corsets of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Overall, it was black, only the sapphire stitching and fireworks designs disrupting the eternal sense of midnight that was tied tightly at the back with a matching satin cord. The bust had to be adjusted to fit Riley's small chest, but soft heart-shaped cut pushed her breasts up to make them more noticeable. A sapphire choker was fastened around her neck, anchoring the four black straps that were attached to the top of the corset, creating a sort of net over her exposed flesh. Long black gloves that reached mid-bicep brought more attention to the amethyst bracelet around her wrist.

Riley twitched under her friend's close scrutiny, bringing Mariah's smile to a grin. With her hair lightly tousled and half pulled into an artfully chaotic bun behind her head with her bangs cascading over her delicate face and the slender silver hoops in her ears, Riley looked every bit the princess she was so often made out to be by the media.

"What?" the silver-haired girl asked, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Nothing," Mariah replied brightly, pushing her charge back to her seat. "Now sit still while I finish up."

Riley gave her an alarmed look. "There's _more?!_"

Mariah stifled a laugh as a knock sounded at the door. "It's open!"

Both girls turned their heads to see the old chief of staff, Edward, step slowly into the room. He bowed when he recognized Riley. "My Lady, the guests inquire of your absence."

Riley tilted her head and gave him an extremely unenthusiastic look. "Yay."

Mariah allowed herself a small smile as she put the finishing touches on the smoky eye shadow that accentuated Riley's vibrant amethyst eyes. She had caught the flash of surprise on the old man's features before it dissolved in a look of mild amusement. There was no sense of approval yet, but it was a start. It had taken Edward a good portion of the past week to grow used to the girl's strangely laidback personality, especially upon realizing that she only showed her true self when she felt she could get away with it.

Voltaire Hiwatari had made a fatal error in believing the girl stupid.

As Mariah had learned, under normal circumstances, Edward would be obligated to inform Lord Hiwatari of such happenings, but the change in position and loyalty – although she suspected it had really always been for the boy instead of the grandfather – led to a shift in mindset.

If she was seeing things as clearly as she believed, Riley had gained one more ally in her war against the world.

When the last touch was added – an elegant silver tiara adorned with tiny sparkling diamonds – Riley's personal fashion designer smiled. "All done!" Mariah announced in a singsong voice, stepping back to admire her work. After a long minute of close inspection, she nodded in approval. "Perfect. I'm a _genius._"

Silver brows furrowed over dark eyes, lightly stained lips tilting upward in acknowledgement to the insult, thoroughly ruining the sparkling vision of the perfect princess. Then again, it really couldn't have been expected to last long, anyway. This _was_ Riley, after all. "I'll get you back for that."

Mariah grinned, baring her sharp feline fangs. "I'll be waiting," she said, winking and blowing her friend a kiss. "Now get down there before they start a riot."

Riley rolled her eyes and stood, pausing to gaze down at her outfit in distaste. Her gloved hand drifted upward to touch the choker, a look of mirthless humor crossing her features. "Does this come with a leash, too? 'Cause it would suit since I feel like a circus bear." Upon seeing Mariah's grin, she shook her head, turning to face Edward instead. The elderly man bowed gracefully, offering her his arm. Mariah watched with a sense of pride as the girl delicately placed her hand on Edward's arm. While Riley might hate the high-class world with a passion, she played her part flawlessly.

The pink-haired woman's grin broadened as the thought of the groom's surprise of her sudden change in behavior the second the party was over. Oh, this would be good. _Give 'em hell, Riles._

_

* * *

_

Edward led the heir of the Taylor fortune out into the corridor that would lead them to the grand staircase, and in turn, the festivities on the ground floor. She kept pace with him fairly well considering her diminutive size and the added challenge of the heels on her feet. Edward watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting how she held her head up high, chin tilted in an ever so slightly insolent manner. Not a flicker of fear could be seen on her face, something that he had expected to see. The faint fire in her eyes spoke of the knowledge of the possibilities of a challenge in the lion's den along with the feral promise of a predator that would not back down.

He had no doubt in his mind that several guests had staked their claims on his young master and would be itching for revenge on the girl that had stolen him from them. For all of their jewels and refined tastes, the women of the upper class had claws and were not afraid to use them with brutal force. "Trust only the beverages and bites you take yourself, mistress, or those given to you by Master Kai," he advised quietly as they neared the top of the grand staircase.

The girl looked up at him with mild surprise, a brow lifted in amusement. "I suppose they're too good for practical jokes," she mused, inclining her head in thanks for the warning. "Good thing I'm not very hungry." She winked, offering him a wry, lopsided smile.

Edward found himself smiling back as they stopped before the door that opened up onto the grand staircase. She removed her hand from his arm and he took a step back, bowing deeply. "Very good, mistress."

"Suppose you're not going to let me escape this one. No? Didn't think so." Riley heaved a dramatic sigh. "It was worth a shot."

The chief of staff bowed again, placing his white-gloved hand on the brass door handle. "Good luck, Mistress Riley," he murmured, turning the handle.

"Hn." Riley didn't flinch as the door slowly opened to reveal the dazzling lights of the dining hall and the rainbow of fabrics that made up the suddenly stilled forms of the guests. All eyes were on her as Edward stepped into place two paces behind her.

"Presenting the Lady Riley Hiwatari." The old man's voice carried over across the room with the ease of long practice, tone laced with the proper amount of respect and humility that suited his station.

As her rank demanded, Riley spared him not a glance, pausing only a moment before beginning her descent into the masses of sophisticated predators.

* * *

It had been the sudden silence that had alerted him of the new presence in the room. Every head had turned the moment the door at the head of the steps had opened, conversation put on hold when the figure on the top step was announced. The whispers only began when the figure took her first step down the staircase.

"Goodness, isn't she a pretty little dear?"

"-looks so young! She can't be older than sixteen!"

"-I heard she was nineteen-"

"So small!"

"-such a delicate little thing, it looks as though a little breeze could knock her off her feet-"

"-like a little doll-"

"-innocent face, looks to be no more than a child-"

"-never seen her at festivities before-"

"-shy, perhaps?"

"Snobby, more like."

Only half listening to the chatter around him, Kai Hiwatari slipped free of the clutches of the eager Lord Barthez to meet his new wife at the foot of the stairs. He reached her just as she stepped onto the marble floor, dark eyes lowered as she dipped into a graceful curtsey. "M'lord," she murmured, her voice low and melodic, much different from the sarcastic tones he remembered from their youth.

Kai took her small hand in his, bowing deeply. "M'lady," he said quietly, gazing up at her as his lips brushed against her knuckles. "You look beautiful."

A faint blush colored her cheeks, lips curved in a shy smile. "You flatter me, m'Lord."

The two-toned young man offered her his arm, waiting a moment longer for her to take it before leading her into the crowd. The games had begun.

* * *

Not long after she had first entered the dining hall was Riley separated from her husband. She was quickly snatched away by a group of ladies not much older than her, every one of them eager for less formal introductions. Or rather, gossip.

For curiosity's sake, she listened to the snatches of conversation she could catch, weighing the words and reactions her presence caused in the crowd. The overall consensus seemed to be of mild disapproval, which amused her immensely. These snobby peacocks disliked her because she had stolen the most eligible bachelor among them in a seemingly fairytale romance of secret love?

_Fuckheads,_ she thought with a mental snicker. _Wonder how many feathers will fly if they found out Hiwatari and I hate each other?_

"Lady Riley, you must tell us, how did you meet?" an excited young woman asked, gloved hands clasped together as she gazed at her with eager brown eyes. If Riley wasn't mistaken, this was Lady Hiromi Takaya, heiress to an empire approximately half as prosperous as her new husband's.

_Oh fuck._ Riley placed a hand over her mouth to disguise a smile, her gaze shifting to where Kai stood a few feet away. Almost as though he could sense her gaze, he tilted his head, eyes falling upon her. Riley promised herself a celebratory treat for later when she successfully forced a blush to her cheeks and giggled, hurriedly looking back to Hiromi. _Dammit!_ "It's silly…"

"Oh, no, you must tell!" Lady Hiromi pressed, placing her small hands on Riley's. "Please, Lady Riley!"

_Oh, for fuck's sake. Wing it and tell him later, I guess._ "Well…" _Might as well make this good…_ "It was a little over a year ago and Father wanted me to come with him on one of his business meetings. I _pleaded_ with him to let me stay at home but he _insisted_ I come with him to learn how things worked because I am heiress and if he should die…" here Riley sniffled and received a sympathetic look from Hiromi, "the company would rest on my shoulders alone since I had yet to show any interest in marriage."

"None at all?" the pretty brunette inquired, seemingly aghast.

_Still none to speak of, not that daddy-dear or molty-Volty care._ "No…" Riley brought another blush to her cheeks and leaned in to whisper, "You mustn't think me childish, but I couldn't bear the thought of marrying without being madly in love!" _Such bullshit, bullshit, bullSHIT, such bullshit, bullshit, bullSHIT._

Lady Hiromi sighed delightedly, nearly bouncing with glee. "How wonderful! You and Lord Kai had to sit through the meeting together?"

_Uhhh…_ "Well, that was how it began," Riley said quietly, a smile playing on her painted lips. "But Lord Kai, being the perfect _gentleman_, seemed to see how disinterested I was and invited me to tour the gardens with him! Oh, it was so wonderful! The sakura blossoms were in full bloom and the air was sweet..."

"How romantic!" Lady Hiromi exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight.

_This is stupid._ "Ah, but I did not realize I loved him until the very end," she said, holding up a finger to halt her companion's excited squeal. "When he escorted me back to the little sunroom we had entered from, he turned and handed me a beautiful red rose and asked if I could honor him with a talk over tea the next day! We fell madly in love almost immediately after!"

"Oh, I _knew_ Lord Kai was a true romantic!" Lady Hiromi whispered conspiratorially, giggling. "He seems so distant in public, but I thought I sensed a passionate soul!"

_I have the feeling that he's going to kill me for this…_

* * *

"Tea?"

Riley thought that Kai would have sounded incredulous if he would let any sort of emotion into his voice aside from neutrality.

"And a gift of a dozen white roses," she added, spinning gracefully back into his strong arms and smiling up at him. As host and hostess, they had been urged to take the first dance alone, which meant that all attention was on them as they spun in the center of the ballroom floor, a trill of flutes, violins, and a piano accompaniment providing them with a classical waltz. _This. Sucks._

At this, Kai lifted a slate brow, holding her close to his body as he led her through the complex steps of the dance. Somehow Riley wasn't surprised in the least to find out that he was an incredible dancer. _Hoity-toity shithead._

"I had thirty seconds to come up with something and it looked like that was the kind of thing she would eat up, happy?"

Instead of answering, Kai gave her a look that clearly stated that no, that did _not_ make him happy. _Well too friggin' bad. I'm not exactly throwing a party over here myself._

"No one but a complete moron would believe that," he said shortly, bowing deeply to her as was tradition after a dance.

Riley lifted her bare shoulder in a shrug, curtseying in reply.

"Never would have pegged you as a romantic, Lord Kai," the arrogant voice of Brooklyn Kingston stated from nearby. Kai gritted his teeth when Riley shot him a smug look, taking the orange-haired man's hand as a new song started. Only Kai seemed to hear the sadistic tone in her laughter as she danced away.

* * *

_-- Tsudzuku --_

* * *

Uwaaahh.... XD Riley's such a potty mouth. ::lmao::

And this QuickEdit thing is a pain in the ass...

Review!


	5. Chapter Four

_Document titled 'urkurk Coronaaaaaaa' for QuickEdit 'cause I'm weird..._

Forgive any crappiness in this chapter, I'm too lazy to edit it.

Disclaimer: Previously stated, I'm not repeating myself.

Review, dammit!

* * *

_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Four_

_

* * *

_

_If one more person asks me to dance, I'm going to _scream, Riley thought vehemently, sitting down for the first time in two hours. Her feet were killing her and her personal space had been invaded far too many times, thank you.

"M'Lady, would you honor me with a dance?"

_Hell no, you dumb fuck!_ "I apologize, sir, but I do believe I have danced all I can for tonight!" she exclaimed, making a show of fanning herself with her gloved hand. _When does this fucking party end!_

"Shall I get you a drink, then?" the young man – she had no idea who he was and, frankly, didn't give two shits anyway – asked politely, bowing again to her.

_Next time he bows, I'm shoving my knee in his face,_ she thought bitterly as she shook her head. "No, no, but thank you." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "I would just like to rest a while."

"Of course." He smiled back at her and backed away, almost immediately taking the hand of a lady dressed in crimson and pulling her to the dance floor.

The urge to kick off the horrible shoes was overwhelming. Riley shifted her feet to keep as much weight off of them as possible, sighing lightly as she gazed up at the large grandfather clock opposite the grand staircase. _10 o'clock… When the fuck do these parties end, anyway?_

"A drink, mistress?"

Riley blinked, turning to see Edward standing beside her with a tray in hand, a shot glass filled with amber liquid in the very center. "It's not watered down, is it?" she asked, eyeing it with a great deal of interest.

The old man simply smiled and offered her the drink, which she took gladly. Riley threw back her head and downed the shot in one gulp, eyes closed as the alcohol burned down her throat. A low hum of gratitude escaped her, mouth turned upward in a slight smile. With a party like this, one would have to be a little buzzed to keep from falling asleep on their feet. _Shows just how shitty these people are if they need alcohol to keep things rolling after the first two minutes. They really don't know how to party._

"Dessert shall be served momentarily, mistress. Is there anything else you require?" Edward asked, placing her glass back on the tray.

_An escape route would be nice._ "Aside from a hot bath, no."

Edward chuckled, nodding his head. "Of course, mistress."

* * *

"A toast to my grandson and his new wife, as well as new beginnings for us all," Voltaire said, lifting his glass at the rest of those guests seated at the long table.

A hearty cheer broke out as glasses clinked and more alcohol was consumed. Riley, despite the old coot's words, had no qualms about downing another glass of wine. Her mind was pleasantly buzzing and her feet didn't hurt anymore. She could ignore a few lies from a conniving bastard for a little while.

After all this was over, however, he would pay. Oh yes, he would pay.

From far down the guest table, a fork tapped a glass, ringing clearly throughout the dining hall and drawing all eyes to the newly wedded couple. The ringer, who happened to be Hiromi Takaya, smiled up at them, cheeks flushed with excitement.

_Oh HELL no._

Riley's gaze flicked over to see Kai's expression and she mentally cursed the world and all things traditional as she turned her head aside and forced a blush to color her cheeks. She had just caught the flicker of surprise and discomfort in Kai's crimson eyes before she had looked away. _Well, at least I'm not the only one wanting a way out of this one._

"Come now, Lord Kai. Surely you have no reason for hesitation, considering such a romantic meeting?" Brooklyn Kingston's voice sang out, causing a lighthearted chuckle to ripple through the crowd.

_Well fuck, if he wasn't pissed before, he sure as hell is now. ARGH! I'm not drunk enough for this!_ Riley's shoulders lifted in an unconscious defensive gesture that was misinterpreted as embarrassment from the assembled guests.

A cool hand touched her chin, turning her head as barely audible words were breathed in her ear. "Any more stupid ideas?"

_Plenty. I've got half a mind to put horseshit on your pillow._ "Of course," she whispered back, smiling with all the innocence she could muster.

"Keep them to yourself and be the idiot little virgin you're supposed to be." Even though he was smiling while he whispered in her ear, the underlying threat was crystal clear. And it did not make Riley very happy.

_Ooh, you've got yourself up to your eyeballs in shit now, Blue._ "I'll be sure to be terrified by your manliness later, my love."

Crimson eyes flashed just as another glass was clinked, signaling the impatience of the audience. The waves of anxiety ran thick. They wanted to see their kiss, dammit.

"Go to hell," Kai retorted before his lips brushed against hers.

Her nose touched his in a parody of affection. "I'm already there." _The irony here is going to make me hurl._

_

* * *

_

As the celebration slowly wound to an end, both bride and groom were on their way to being roaring drunk. It was doubtful that any of the guests realized this, for the pair was oddly practiced in being discreet in such matters. Then again, the guests really were to blame. Riley had mentally throttled nearly each guest a total of twenty-seven times for clinking their glass with their fork to make the pseudo-couple kiss.

It didn't help that their disgustingly cheerful audience mistook their whispered threats for lovers' sweet nothings.

Things almost visibly relaxed when Voltaire was the first to leave. As the highest-ranking man at the celebration, he led the procession of guests leaving in their limousines to retire in their own mansions.

Riley would have thanked him profusely for ending the hellish event if it weren't for the fact that he was still a sniveling old coot with a giant stick up his ass. So instead, she downed another shot glass as a toast for his swift death by hatchet decapitation. His grandson, however, could still rot in hell for all eternity.

As the last guest disappeared into their limousine and drove off, Riley picked up a bottle of Corona and cradled it in her hands. After a long night of acting like a happy bimbo bride and dealing with hoity-toity assholes without killing anyone, she deserved it, dammit.

_Like hell I'm going to bed sober,_ she thought vehemently, stomping up the grand staircase with a bit of drink- and heel-induced difficulty. _I have a date with a drunken stupor._ With that thought in mind, she clumsily kicked off her shoes and uncorked the bottle, taking a swift and extremely satisfying swig of liquor.

* * *

Riley leaned heavily on the doorframe of the room she had dressed in, half-empty Corona bottle dangling in her fingers. Her head was deliciously fuzzy, thoughts few and far between.

As carefully as she could while in her condition, she stumbled into the room, searching for a place to set down the Sacred Ambrosia in her hand so it would not be knocked over or forgotten. After several minutes of sporadic searching, she decided that the bedside table was as good a place as any.

Once the drink was safely resting on its new pedestal, Riley began the difficult work of untangling herself from the tight confines of her dress. The first to go were the elegant gloves, which found a new home in a heap on the floor. She fumbled with the choker, finally managing to unclasp the damned thing and thus relieve some of the pressure on her chest.

Riley grunted, frustrated with the fact that she couldn't reach the cord that tied the bodice to her body. After several fruitless attempts, she managed to grab hold of the cord and pulled. The knot easily fell away and another tug in the right place loosened the hated piece enough for her to slip out of it. Granted, the slipping out part was difficult and she tripped over the long skirt, tumbling into a mess of expensive fabric and slender limbs on the bed. "Ow…" After a moment of trying to discern which way was up, she managed to sit, both hands holding her throbbing head.

Clad now in only a lacy black bra and matching boy-cut underwear, she sulked on the edge of the bed, legs folded beneath her as she tried to pull the millions of bobby pins from her hair. Several times she jabbed her hand with the hated things, while other times she lost the little devils entirely, only to find them a few minutes later when they struck a rather sensitive spot on her back or leg.

A frustrated yell escaped her and she flung the pins from the bed, not caring where they landed, only that they were too far away to poke her. Now, with her hair loosened to a wild tangle of silver and purple, she stumbled over to the ensuite bathroom, shedding the remaining her clothing without a care of where they landed.

The water was hot. Deliciously hot, turning her pale skin a warm pink as it pounded on her back and shoulders. She sighed contentedly, combing a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner into her hair, far too lazy to use the individual bottles. Once all of her hair was full of shampoo, she coiled it into a long rope and piled it on top of her head, leaving her hands free to work on cleaning her body.

Soap suds collected in a small whirlpool at the bottom of the shower while a thick mist of lilacs filled the bathroom. The heady scent filled her nose, touching upon her state of drunkenness and gently pushing it away.

Half an hour later, a clean and half-sober Riley padded out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of blue boxer shorts she had stolen from Tala and a black sports bra, bottle of Corona forgotten on the bedside table. The shower had restored some of the energy she had lost, which led to the realization that exploring would be a very good idea.

Riley absently pulled her long hair into a messy ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, wild bangs tucked behind her ears. Armed only with a vague idea of where things were and avid curiosity, she slowly began her circuit around the room.

She hadn't noticed before – that or she simply hadn't cared – but the room was large, approximately as large as her bedroom had been back at the Taylor estate. There were three large windows, each of which was equipped with a deep window seat, cushions, blankets, and pillows. The curtains had been shut but she threw them open again, the absence of the night sky causing her to fidget uncomfortably.

A sudden wave of anxiety washed over her and she jumped onto the window seat, throwing open the window and leaning out over the edge. "Dammit!" She cursed again, leaning farther out to see if she had missed anything. Apparently not, there still wasn't a trellis. "Shit! Fuck, damn it all to hell!" she yelled, slamming her fist against the wall of the mansion.

Her favorite escape route back home didn't exist here. She would have to use the bloody _door._

"Damn!" Somehow at a loss of what else to curse, she threw a large pillow across the room, disappointed by the fact that it didn't break anything when it landed.

"You curse like a sailor."

Riley didn't even let the insult or speaker's identity to process before she retorted with a very unladylike "Bite me."

There was no answer and she looked up to see her pseudo-husband standing on the other side of the bed, his bowtie and suit jacket missing.

Silver brows dipped in a frown. "What are you doing in here, anyway?"

He didn't bother looking up at her when he replied, "This is my room."

_Wha?_ "Is not."

"Yes it is."

"Is not!"

"Yes it is."

"It is _not!_"

"Yes it is."

Riley threw a pillow at him and pointed to the large walk-in closet that housed her wardrobe. "Is not! My clothes are in here, so it's _my_ room."

Kai didn't answer as he walked across to the other side of the room and threw open the double-doors to reveal a walk-in closet filled with clothes that obviously belonged to him. Instead of turning to see her reaction, he disappeared inside only to reappear a moment later wearing a pair of black silk boxers and a white tank top.

For a long moment, Riley could only stare. Kai continued ignoring her, disappearing into the bathroom. The door closed just as another pillow struck the wall. "You have _got_ to be shittin' me!"

Furious with Kai, the world, fate, and all things evil – not necessarily in that particular order – Riley hurled the rest of the pillows out the window and then proceeded to settle in for a good sulk.

* * *

_**- Tsudzuku -**_

_**

* * *

**_

(Is it tsudzuku of tsuzuku? Meh, I dunno. If anyone does, let me know.)

I only use the Jap names I like… Takao and Hiromi for example. Someone asked in another ficcu of mine… So that's your answer. :sheepish grin:

QuickEdit also seems to have a problem with having an exclamation point and then a question mark immediately afterward, too. YOU'RE DISTILLING MY FUNK, ASSHOLE!

Review! My army of purple flying monkeys are getting restless and I just received a shipment of cattle prods and super-sized tampons.


	6. Chapter Five

Hey, I'm on a roll here, aren't I? Whoopa. Updates roughly every two weeks or so. Much better than waiting a month, don't you think?

I'm glad to see you reviewers like Riley as much as I do. It's so much fun to write about her! Thanks for the great feedback, it makes my day.

I took a little idea from _Phoenix Tears_ – which is still on hiatus, sorry – that I really liked and put it into this story. See if you can figure out what it is. XD

Disclaimer: We went over this…

Enjoy, and review! – You guys can give me ideas, too, you know.

For Jac, Lizzy, and Ressa, because I love them and I can.

* * *

_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Five_

_

* * *

_

_September 6th, 2004_

The first thing Riley became aware of when she awoke the next day was her throbbing head. The second was the quiet inquiry from next to her pillow.

Annoyed at being disturbed from her deep slumber and made aware of her painful hangover, Riley burrowed deeper into the covers, pulling the topmost blanket up over her head in an attempt to drown out the voice. "Go _'way!_"

The voice came again, this time in a more discernable form of a sort of mewling.

_I know I'm drunk, but I can't be _that_ drunk._

This time, the mewling sound was accompanied by something gently pulling at the covers. After a moment or two, a soft, furry object poked the corner of her mouth.

_What the…?_

Just as she was being poked again, her eyes cracked open, blearily taking in the painful world of wakefulness. However, her sight was enormously hindered by a rather large, fiery wall… And a pair of enormous crystal blue eyes.

In a sudden jerk of movement, Riley toppled off the bed and landed in a surprised heap on the floor.

A large red, gold, and copper calico sat on the bed where she had just fallen from, ears turned toward her with interest. The long, bushy tail thumped against the mattress almost in inquiry.

_A cat. _Riley stared back at the cat, eyes narrowed in annoyance. _I was woken up by a _cat?

"I see you have met Dranzer, mistress."

Even though Edward's face was expressionless, Riley could have sworn that he was laughing at her. "This _thing_ poked me!" She pointed at the cat, which mewed in response, lifting up a paw to bat at her finger. Torn between snatching her hand back and petting the animal, Riley hesitated long enough for it to take the opportunity to sniff her finger. After a moment of investigation, the cat deemed her unimportant and turned away to curl up on her pillow. "Hey!"

Edward chuckled. "Dranzer is rather partial to sleeping with Master Kai. He was insulted that his space was taken."

"So I got shoved out of bed by a _cat_ because it wanted its _bed_ back?" Riley said incredulously, glaring at the creature, which now appeared to be ignoring her.

"In all simplicity, yes."

"Shows how much taste you've got for liking that asshole," Riley grumbled, still glaring at the cat. Dranzer, for his credit, expressed his opinion of the matter in a way of more eloquence than his master's wife; he stood, stretched, and settled back down with his back to her.

Riley groaned exasperatedly, holding her aching head in the palm of her hand. When the wave of nausea had passed, she opened one eye to regard the chief of staff with a look similar to incredulity. "So, you're telling me that he sleeps _alone_ in this _huge_ bed with his _cat?_"

The very corner of Edward's mouth twitched. "Yes, mistress."

Amethyst orbs rose heavenward and then disappeared beneath pale lids as a wave of pain washed over her. "I'm not sober enough to handle this shit."

"Would you like some aspirin, mistress?"

"Huh?" One eye cracked open as though it would aid the understanding of the statement. "Oh. Yeah." She watched just long enough to see the old man leave the room before she leaned back against the bed.

"Mrrow?"

"Shut up, you."

* * *

_"Pass the rice."_

_Riley looks up and sees a life-sized doll sitting in Voltaire's lap across the table from her. Voltaire moves the doll's arms and makes the doll frown at her._

_"Pass the rice, woman."_

_Somewhere in the back of her hazy mind, she screams that he has to say please first, but she passes him the rice anyway._

_That same voice is now annoyed that he didn't say thank you, either._

_"Pass the milk, please."_

_Voltaire, and the doll, ignores her._

_Now that voice was threatening him with the fork in her hand. "Please, sir, pass the milk."_

_They continue to ignore her._

_"Please pass the milk."_

_The doll spoons rice into its mouth._

_"Pass the milk, please."_

_Now it's eating carrots._

_"Pass the milk, please."_

_More carrots._

_"Pass the milk, please."_

_Oh, now some celery._

_"Pass the milk, please."_

_Now a sip of tea._

_Riley reaches across the table to get the milk herself and gets her hand slapped away by the doll. But she doesn't feel it._

_She's a doll, too._

_"Ask for the milk, woman."_

_Riley blanches, and then dumps the doll off her lap, launching across the table, the food and dishes suddenly gone, to wrap her fingers around Voltaire's throat. "I _did_ ask for the milk, asshole!"_

_Somehow she ends up fighting the doll instead. Her foot hits its jaw and she tries to get past the doll to Voltaire. She can't reach him. She jumps again and tries to hit his face but she misses._

_The doll shoves her on the ground and knocks the wind out of her._

_Then a plushie with an odd resemblance to Voltaire's grandson falls on her chest with a squeak._

_

* * *

_

"Ungh…"

Riley groaned and tried to stretch, but a rather heavy object on her chest made this difficult. Confused, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pulling the blankets away from her face far enough to see what the problem was.

Dranzer.

Riley's head fell back onto the pillow with a thump. "Damn cat."

An odd rumbling sound vibrated through her stomach, sort of like an old car engine. Frowning, Riley lifted her head again and stared at the cat, taking several moments of hazy thinking to discern the fact that the _cat_ was the source of the noise, which meant that it was _purring_. And, if memory served, that meant that the cat was _happy_.

"What are you, fucking king of the mountain?" Riley grumbled, glaring at the animal.

Dranzer purred louder.

She scowled. "Bastard."

After several moments of negotiation – Dranzer did _not_ want to give up his new bed, thank you – Riley managed to get out of bed and into a pair of navy drawstring pants. It took several more minutes to find her black leather jacket, a pair of socks that weren't designer – she hated them with a passion – and her gray sneakers that she had managed to smuggle into the masses of expensive clothes brought over from the Taylor estate. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to bring in any shirts.

Not that it was her first time going out in public only wearing a sports bra on top, anyway.

Riley pulled her hair back, swiftly braiding the strands into a thick rope that she tied off with a string at the base. Taking long strides, she left the room and headed through the maze that was the Hiwatari estate, tugging on black fingerless gloves to protect her small hands. Dranzer trotted along beside her, long tail held high like a banner.

She paused at the base of the grand staircase, checking the time before she headed to the side door that would lead to the garage. Three-thirty in the afternoon. Mel would still be at work.

"Ozzy!" she yelled once she entered the garage, still pulling the jacket over her arms. By this time she had managed to lose Dranzer – she had passed by the kitchen and the cat was probably hungry – and she hadn't run into any of the household staff during her escape, which was always good.

"Yeah?" A mass of unruly black hair with a red shock at the center of the forehead appeared beneath a small red car at the other end of the garage.

"What's the number for the garage?" she asked, squatting next to the car he was working on when she was close enough.

"794-3582, why?" Ozuma rubbed a streak of oil from his cheek with the back of his hand, giving her an inquisitive look.

"Call screening." She flashed him a grin. "Is the Camaro good to go?"

Ozuma saluted her with a gloved hand, returning her grin with a friendly one of his own. "Gassed up and ready to go. Be more careful next time! I had to replace the tail lights and rear bumper."

Riley tapped her cheek with her finger, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. Good thing I've got such a great mechanic, huh?"

The dark-haired mechanic rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the light coloring of his cheeks upon hearing the compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he said, waving a wrench at her. "Now get out of here before I decide to pull all the batteries out of the cars."

"Sure, sure." Riley straightened and caught the keys tossed to her. "How's the new place working out for you?"

"Well…" Ozuma pushed out from beneath the car and stood up, wiping his hands on the rag again. "It's not home, but it's still nice. Lots of room and all the tools I need." He winked teasingly. "And I've got lots of repairs to keep me busy."

"I try." She waved, jogging to where the Camaro was sitting. The silver car shone brightly from a recent waxing, the top pulled down because of the warm weather. She didn't bother opening the door; instead she vaulted into the driver's seat with a deftness that suggested long practice. Seat belt snapped into place, key in the ignition, and Linkin Park CD in the player, she pressed her foot on the clutch, turning the key and gently easing her foot off the pedal as the car came to life.

The garage door lifted in front of her, giving her a clear path to the outside world. Riley waved again to Ozuma, who waved back, and shifted into first gear, driving out onto the driveway.

The music was loud, the beat pumping in time with her heart, words washing over her like an ocean wave. Wind blowing in her face and causing her hair to whip about behind her, she belted out the lyrics, not caring how ridiculous she must look. She had been stuck doing what was expected of her for far too long. It was time to bust loose.

For the past few weeks, she had been caught in a whirlwind of fancy dresses, diamonds, and million dollar smiles that amounted to nothing when you took the time to look. Not a single person that she had been introduced to had anything genuine in their eyes. It was like a masquerade where all of the dancers had had masks on their entire lives, blending them so flawlessly you would have to be one of them to know the difference. They would give anything for money, everything for influence. It was always about power.

According to society's elite, power was everything.

Even Richard Taylor, who appeared to be a kindhearted man to those around him, would sacrifice his own daughter for power.

And he had.

Riley scowled, pressing her foot harder on the gas. He had said that the betrothal was what he thought was best for her. She would be well provided for, she would have the best of everything. She would live the perfect life.

_Feh, yeah. The perfect _boring_ life,_ she thought venomously, throwing the car into park with more force than was necessary. The need to keep moving forced her out of the car and up the fire escape, taking the steps two at a time, heart pounding in her chest. She reached the fifth floor, jumping up to catch the half of the ladder that hung down from the sixth, having broken off three years ago. For a moment she hung from the bottom rung, pushing off the railing with her feet to give her enough momentum to swing up onto the landing of the sixth floor. Her knees bent to absorb the shock of the landing, hands braced on the iron grating to regain her balance before she even attempted to go through the window.

Riley dug her fingers into the groove beneath the windowpane, pushing the window open enough to let her slip through. One hand still on the windowsill, she crouched on the floor, listening carefully to the sounds within the apartment for any signs of other people inside. All she heard was the low hum of the refrigerator.

She moved through the apartment with a sense of familiarity, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floors and occasional throw rugs. Mel's apartment was almost impersonal, having very few objects that shouted that this was _her_ place, dammit. There were rows of pictures above the mantel, most of them snapshots they had taken on various trips and outings with the rest of the gang. Riley paused, slowly reaching upward to take a particular photograph from the shelf.

Johnny had been the one to take the picture, so it was at an odd angle, but it caught in candid poses. Probably the reason why Mel kept it. Off in the background Mel and Tala were having a water gun war, the redhead obviously losing. He was sprawled in the golden sand on his back, glaring at Mel, who was standing over him with both water guns and a smirk on her face. The small figure of Aisha Lynn sat in the middle of a wide array of plastic buckets and shovels, cheerfully fashioning a fantastic castle of sand. Isabel Fay lay on her towel sunbathing, shades pulled down her nose as she glared at Tala, who had just squirted her. Charlotte Johanson sat safely on her towel, protected from any water attacks by her seeing eye dog, Veritas. In the center stood Mihaeru, legs spread for balance, laughing at Riley, who was on his back. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, arms comfortably holding onto his shoulders. She had surprised him, running and jumping onto his back without warning, but he had adjusted quickly enough before the picture had been taken.

_"Aah! Riley, jeez!"_

_"Haha, gotcha, 'Ru!"_

Riley shook her head, pulling away from the picture and quickly moving into the bedroom. She didn't have the time to dwell on it, anyway.

Once inside, she plopped down on the floor in front of the large empty boxes that had been left there just for her. Time to work.

Clothes flew everywhere, most landing in the boxes, some landing on the floor nearby. Riley didn't bother folding them and placing them neatly, she stuffed as much as she could into each box, sealing it with a stretch of packing tape when one of was filled. She had kept her clothes – the ones she actually _liked_ to wear – at Mel's apartment for as long as she could remember. Mel had never cared – she actually seemed to find it amusing – and it was better than worrying about her father finding her street clothes if they kept them at the estate. Mariah didn't care, but one of the servants more loyal to her father and not so much to her would tell. That would spell disaster.

A pair of boots landed on the last pile of clothes, the last item to be thrown. Riley scooted over to the other clothes she had missed when she had thrown them, stuffing them all into the last box before she closed the lid and taped it down.

Four boxes large enough for her to curl up inside of with room to spare. She would need help getting them down the stairs. But before that…

Riley pulled a dry erase marker from the bin next to the white board, wiping off the other notes – most were at least a month old – that had been scribbled on to leave room.

_Came by to grab my stuff, thanks for keeping it here.  
__794-3582 if you want to call me, Oz will pick up.  
__Southside, Bakuten Ridge, #7. Watch out for cat.  
__Visit me!_

Satisfied that all the information needed was there, she dropped the marker on the desk and began the difficult task of pushing the large boxes of clothes toward the door.

* * *

**_– Tsudzuku –_**

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Since nobody corrected me on that, it's gonna stay _tsudzuku_.

Not so much hilarity in this chapter, sorreh. More next time. And more Dranzer, because I like him. :3

Oh, the number is completely random and made up. Don't call it, Ozuma isn't going to pick up.

Until next time… Review! And give me some suggestions, here! I always like getting constructive criticism, you know. I wanna know why you like/don't like something. So come on!

– Midnight Insanity


	7. Chapter Six

_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Six_

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Mellanie Travers rested her weight on one foot as she fished her keys out of her pocket. The moment she inserted the key in the lock, however, she paused, not bothering to turn it. Instead, she turned the handle and the door swung open. The corner of her full mouth angled upward in a smile. _Hey to you, too, Riley._ If the unlocked door was any indication, her fair-haired friend had left only a few minutes before.

"Shows how much you trust her to let her go through the fire escape and leave the front door open," Tala commented from behind her, cerulean eyes wandering around the expanse of the apartment that he could see through the door. It wasn't like he hadn't been there before, he had, countless times. It was just visibly different when Riley wasn't there. There was some sort of vibe that was missing.

"Same could be said for you when I gave you the key." Mel lifted a dark brow, giving him a pointed look before she swept into her apartment, dropping her keys on the counter and slinging her black jacket over the back of a chair.

The tall redhead smirked. "Touché."

Mel didn't bother pointing out that she could always change the locks on him.

* * *

With the last box hauled up the grand staircase and through the winding corridors of the mansion, Riley nodded her head in satisfaction. All four had been pushed to encircle her closet, the doors thrown wide open to allow plenty of space.

Glad to no longer have to hide her personality in another house that technically didn't even belong to her, she vaulted over the row of boxes and set to work.

It was here, two and a half hours later and buried in chaos, that Edward found her.

"Miss Riley?"

A disheveled head popped up from a mountain of denim, cotton, and leather. "Ehh? Oh, hey Ed-man." She absently picked a chain belt from her shoulder, dropping it into one of the boxes.

The elderly man looked at a loss as to what to make of the situation, the oblivious Riley not helping matters at all when she promptly began sorting through the piles of clothes when he didn't answer right away.

"Mistress, dinner will be served in five minutes."

Riley blinked, intrigued by the promise of food. However, the thought of last night's dinner put a damper on it. "Voltaire's not here again, is he?"

"No, mistress." Edward stifled a smile, easily reading the blatant dislike that was written all over her face. "Tonight will be informal."

That seemed to be just what she wanted to hear.

"Shall I escort you, mistress?"

"Ehh?" Riley blinked owlishly, having already gone back to sorting through her clothes, although this time she appeared to be searching for something to wear. She was still dressed in the pair of slacks and sports bra she had put on earlier that day. "Oh, no. Thanks, though, Ed-man."

Edward bowed respectfully, allowing his thin mouth to pull into a small smile. Despite the girl's outrageously forward and insolent manner, he found that he rather liked her. "Of course, mistress."

Riley scowled. "And quit calling me that!"

Ten minutes later Riley was wandering down the grand staircase at a leisurely pace, hands in the front pocket of her navy hoodie, sneakers barely making a sound on the marble tiles. She had opted to simply pull on a sweatshirt over her sports bra in favor of finding something else, it being the first top she grabbed from the pile. Edward _had_ told her it was an informal dinner, after all.

The warm scent of freshly baked bread permeated through the great hall, causing Riley's pace to lengthen to a trot. Now that her attention was away from her wardrobe, she realized she was hungry – she hadn't eaten that day, anyway.

Riley paused at a set of swinging doors, listening to the clatter of dishes, pots, pans, and the occasional command from the man she assumed to be the head chef. _Yumm…_ she thought, pushing through the double doors and stepping straight into culinary chaos.

She was overwhelmed with scents, warmth from five different ovens, and the sounds of a professional kitchen. Speaking of scents…her mouth was beginning to water.

Slipping through the four separate cooks that operated the room to the counter, she pulled herself up onto one of the stools, leaning over to see the trays of food that were obviously meant for the masters of the house. Sleeves rolled up just beneath her elbows, Riley crouched on the stool, reaching forward to swipe a finger through a bowl of mashed potatoes. She popped her finger into her mouth, eyes widening appreciatively when her mouth was accosted with the tastes of butter, garlic, and other spices she couldn't identify. Her hand reached for the bowl again but was swatted away with a wooden spoon.

"Hey! I'm hungry!" Riley looked up to see a young man not much older than her with almond-shaped amber eyes and rather feline features. Long, unruly raven bangs hung over his handsome face, the back tied into a long ponytail that went to his hips.

"That food is for Master Kai and Mistress Riley, not you."

Riley blinked, staring at him for a long moment. _Wait a minute… He doesn't know who I am, does he? Well shit._ "So that means I can eat this, right?" She snatched a bowl of apple crisp from nearby and popped a spoonful into her mouth. "This is really good, by the way."

The Chinese man – she assumed he was Chinese because of his olive skin and lightly slanted eyes – stared at her in astonishment. "You're…"

"Riley Taylor, at your service," she said flippantly, bobbing her head and giving him a casual salute with her spoon after she had taken another bite. "You made the food from last night, right?"

He blinked several times, too surprised to answer properly. "I…yes…"

"Good, then I won't starve while living with Jerkface." Riley paused, spoon still in her mouth. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Rei… Rei Kon, mistress," he said, bowing hastily when he remembered just who he was talking to.

Riley sighed, waving her spoon dismissively. "Just call me Riley. Formality isn't my thing."

"What is going on here?" the cold voice of Kai Hiwatari asked from the doorway that Riley assumed led to the dining room.

"Ever hear the phrase 'patience is a virtue,' asshole?" she drawled, spoon still in her mouth as she spun around on her stool to glare at him. At least until she saw his outfit; a pair of ironed khaki pants belted with expensive leather, a black oxford tucked into the waistband complete with a Rolex watch and shining leather shoes. "You call _that_ casual? Look in the dictionary sometime."

Kai glared at her. "A Hiwatari woman should be seen and not heard," he growled, crimson eyes flashing dangerously.

Riley rolled her eyes, waving her spoon, oblivious to the stunned looks on the cooks' faces. "What is this, the fucking seventeenth century?"

"Can you say a single sentence without cursing like a lowlife?" he sneered, stalking over to stand a foot before her, taking full advantage of his height to stare down at her.

_Lowlife! _"Maybe, if you give me a good reason not to," she retorted, glaring right back. "Bastard," she added, just to spite him.

Kai gritted his teeth. "So you'll take your meals here, then?"

_Where the hell are those potatoes? I'm gonna stick a spoonful in his fucking _eye. "Damn right I will! If I want to curse you to hell and back, I will, dammit! I hate formality, I hate shitty rules made by dumbasses, and I hate you!"

He stiffened, eyes darkening to a color more black than red. "Good, I won't have to be bothered by your insufferable presence."

"_My_ insufferable presence?" Riley yelled as he began to walk away. "_I'm_ the one suffering, bitch! Get back here so I can wring your neck!" When he kept walking she made an attempt to run after him but was stopped by two strong arms wrapping around her waist. "Argh, lemme go! I'm gonna kill him! Dammit, Oz, lemme go!"

"Calm down, Spitfire," the mechanic said gently from behind her, tightening his hold on her when she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. "I've got enough explaining to do as it is."

"The fuck you talking about?" she demanded, turning her head to glare at him.

Ozuma didn't tell her, but she looked extremely cute with her wild silver hair in disarray around her delicate face, amethyst eyes flashing with rage. "I don't think his staff was prepped for your…_unique_ personality."

"Huh?"

When he was sure she had given up the idea of strangling her husband – who had already left the kitchen, presumably to return to the dining room – Ozuma unwound his arms from her waist and took a step back, smiling at her as he crossed his arms over his chest. "They were expecting someone a bit different. Now eat your dinner and go back to whatever the hell you were doing before."

Riley sank back onto her stool, arms folded tightly across her chest, sulking like a little kid. "I hate you," she said petulantly, glaring up at him.

"Uh-huh." Ozuma ruffled her hair affectionately and smiled at the stunned cooks. "Come on, I'll give you a briefing on the Riley Files."

"You're making me seem like a case study!"

"Eat."

Riley scowled, throwing a spoon at him as he led the cooks toward the pantry to talk. Her scowl only intensified when he laughed and caught the airborne projectile, having expected it.

Large spoonful of potatoes in her mouth, Riley glared at his retreating back, constructing a plan of revenge.

* * *

– _**Tsudzuku –**_

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**Shameless plug:** If you want to read more with Riley and Mel, check out **KuriQuinn's** fics, chiefly _Aeternum Vale_. She's bloody awesome, I love her work, so go check it out!

Dunno if I really like this chapter or not. Let me know if you think I should revise it, okay? I do like the little bit with Ozuma and Riley, though. And Mel and Tala. A look at a few different relationships. Yay.

Thanks to all of my reviewers, I love you all.

Special thanks to Ressa, who helped me come up with a specific little detail that I find utterly hilarious…and won't show up until later chapters because I'm evil. XD

Want to see sneak previews to this fic and others? Then check out my LiveJournal – the link's in my bio, although I think you have to copy and paste it into the address bar because the site hates me – and leave me a note so I'll add you to my friends list. There you can see the various ideas, ramblings, chapter previews, linearts, and other random stuff that I come up with.

Urff… That's it for this chapter. Until next time, review!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Link pimpage!** Check out my LiveJournal, the link's in my bio, for sneak peeks to new chapters and fics, linearts, random blurbs and ideas, and a few brand new fics that will _not be found anywhere else_ (for example, the Harry Potter fanfic _Cat's Game_, the first chapter already posted). So check it out and feel free to leave me comments and/or questions, I'll answer them as best I can.

Also, if you like my fics and are also a fan of fics written by my friend **Zadien**, then check out a new Beyblade fic coming soon by both of us: _Celtic Knot_. Our joint penname is **Midnight Gems**. Look for status reports in my bio for this story and others.

And for whoever said this, yeah, the first bit in my bio is from _Naruto_, or, more specifically, Kakashi-sama. XD

Disclaimer: Previously stated. Too lazy to repeat.

Anyway, here it is, surprisingly angsty chapter seven. Thanks for all of the support, you guys, I really appreciate it. Enjoy!

* * *

_Against All Authority_

_Chapter Seven_

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_

A furious streak of silver and black stormed through the upper halls of the mansion. No member of the staff, not even those that had come with their mistress, dared to question her sudden show of anger or even make their presence known to her. There would be no reasoning with her while she was in such a volatile mood. Instead, they could only watch as she stomped into the room she shared with her husband and slammed the door shut, causing the walls to tremble.

Ozuma, having a good idea as to what his mistress was about to do, gassed up the little black Mazda and left the keys in the ignition.

Riley didn't even have the ability to think through the cloud of rage that overcame her. Her hands moved instinctively to throw open the closet doors and pull out an outfit that suited her mood perfectly. Baggy black pants with sapphire blue seams, straps and chains of varying thickness and length hanging from the belt that cinched around her hips. Two holes, stretching from where the center of the front pockets would be to the beginning of the back pockets, were cut to show several inches of thigh, but nothing more. A matching T-shirt, several black buckles to slip over her arms, fingerless gloves, and a pair of cobalt Vans made the outfit complete.

She threw on the clothes without a thought, deftly tying her hair into a long plait that fell to her hips. If anyone even thought of asking her where she was going, her furious air stopped the words before they even touched the tip of their tongue.

She hardly noticed the two maids she brushed past as she ran down the grand staircase. She could hardly see at all through the red haze that clouded her vision.

"Where do you think you're going?" a sharp voice demanded from the foyer.

Riley sent him a venomous glare but did not stop. "Out," she said shortly, flipping him off for good measure.

"Not dressed like that, you aren't. Where?"

Her pink lips curled into a sneer. "At the corner of Eat Shit and Fuck You." (1)

The expression on her husband's face darkened but he didn't get a chance to reply before she disappeared into the garage, slamming the door behind her.

_Fucking asshole thinks he can tell me how to live? I don't fucking think so._ Riley slid into the driver's seat of her Mazda, vaguely noting the fact that Ozuma had left the keys in the ignition for her – she didn't doubt for a second that he had known she would use it – and started the engine, cranking the CD player up the moment she hit Play. Papercut by Linkin Park blared through the speakers as she tore out of the garage; pulse thumping with the thrill the speed provided.

On a whim she opened all four of the windows, reveling in the way the wind whipped her hair across her cheeks. The elements seemed to share her fury, striking her face and neck without mercy, the pain more than welcome in her fevered state. It was wild and primal and what she craved. Its lack of substance, the nothingness that could take an almost solid form and land a blow hard as iron across her breast, was what she needed.

The beat pumping in her belly, Riley threw the car into park and stepped out, slamming the door behind her. She hardly noticed as the windows rolled closed on their own, the lights flickering as her thumb pressed the lock button on the small remote.

A long line had formed outside the club's graffitied doors, guarded by two hulking bouncers with their heavily muscled arms crossed over barrel-like chests, eyes hidden behind dark shades. Riley vaulted over the railing that separated the line from the car park, not seeming to notice the outrageous clothes those around her wore, the wild hairstyles, and the overdose of heavy accessories.

She met surprisingly little resistance on her way up to the front of the line, where she lifted a hand in a salute to the taller of the two bouncers.

"Long time no see, kid," Simon said, a teasing lilt to his baritone voice. "Staying long?"

Riley tilted her head to look up into his veiled eyes. Although still angry, she managed a slight upturn of her lips that provided a sufficient enough answer.

Simon nodded, stepping aside to let her pass, shooting a glare at the next person in line that complained loudly because she had not waited her turn like everyone else.

She didn't care.

She tuned out of the conversation and turned her attention to the pounding beat of the music in the club and the roiling energy that gave a slight bounce to her step. As she melted into the crowd on the dance floor, she felt it. The pulse that coursed through her veins, commanding release even before she began to move.

Hips swayed to the beat, arms held up above her head and hair falling over her back as she instantly found her rhythm and gave herself up to the music and the dance. A low, sultry voice hung over the dance floor like a cloud, intoning rich syllables that held no meaning other than to drive each body to move, to spin and sway, bump and grind.

The blinding fury spread throughout her body, chilling her from toes to fingertips, and she danced. Pressed against gyrating bodies, she gave herself in to the beat, moving with a fluid grace of one mindful only of the music.

A hand touched her hip, a heated question, one that she could taste the flavor of the dancer and she spun, chains and straps slapping at her thighs, arms arched above her head. Dark red hair, a firm, strong body, and a hand gliding over the smooth skin of her back, pressing her flush against his chest. Familiar, the sharp bite of cinnamon fresh on her tongue, laced with fire that was wholly and completely Johnny McGregor.

"You're pissed," he observed, voice low with his breath ghosting over her ear in an effort to be heard even as his hips ground against hers, hands sliding over her body. "Why?"

She ignored his question, instead opting for turning her back to him, bending down to bump against his thigh and rise again with a snap, hair whipping back against his stomach. She didn't want to speak or think, she only wanted to dance. To lose herself in the masses of bodies, melting from social elite to just another dancer in the crowd.

Johnny wasn't one to give up, so she took his silence as understanding as he held her close, warming the cold fury within her with the heat of his body. She didn't want comfort, and he knew it. Instead, he gave her a dance partner, one that moved just as easily as she, one that wouldn't ask questions or expect her to call later that night.

Riley let him lead, setting her mind free to soar away from the dance to wherever it wished to go. Regardless, her anger kept it chained to the one subject she would rather avoid.

"_Jay-sus, what crawled up your ass and died?" Riley snapped the second the door to the study was closed._

_Kai's eyes flashed angrily. "I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep a civil tongue when speaking to me."_

"_That's nice," she muttered, throwing herself down in the cushioned chair opposite the desk. "So you brought me here to _yell_ at me?"_

"_I do _not_ yell," he said stiffly._

_Riley didn't look convinced. "Right. Then what do you want? I've got places I'd rather be."_

"_Apparently, someone neglected to teach you any form of etiquette-"_

"_No they didn't, I just ignored it."_

_Kai continued as if she hadn't spoken. "-or how to dress and behave as one of your social status-"_

"_Uncomfortably and completely fake? Shit, can't see why I avoid _that_ little bit…"_

"_-or even how to treat me with the proper amount of respect-"_

_Was he reading from a cue card? Sure as fuck sounded like it._

"_No, I think I got that part right."_

_He paused for a moment, his entire body rigidly still, before he said slowly, "Are you saying you don't believe I am worthy of any respect?"_

_Riley sniffed. "I don't show _anybody_ respect unless they give me a damn good reason to, and so far, you haven't. You're a fucking tyrant, you've got a stick up your ass the size of Australia, you're an asshole, you treat me and everyone else you believe isn't fucking good enough like shit, and you have absolutely no life aside from what granddaddy wants you to do. Fucking pansy."_

_She felt the slap before she even saw him move and she stared at him in shock, cheek stinging from where his palm had struck her. Somewhere in her tirade she had hit a nerve, but unfortunately, she hadn't been paying attention as to exactly _what_ that nerve had been._

"_You wanted to know why and you got it, don't fucking hit me if you didn't like your answer," she snapped, refusing to rub her cheek even though it stung like hell. She would _not_ give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had actually hurt her._

"_It is a man's duty," he began, quivering with rage._

"_To not be a fucking jackass!" she interrupted, standing abruptly to glare at him, shoving him with each point she made. "Were you born in the fucking fifteenth century, you prick? You don't fucking discipline your wife when she speaks against you. And you say _I'm_ the one that wasn't taught the ways of society. Looks like you need your texts rewritten!" She shoved him one more time and sent him sprawling into one of the chairs of the study, still glaring hatefully at her as she stood before him, fists jammed on her hips. "Now you listen to me, you fucking pig. I hate you and you hate me. We've got that down. But we're stuck together 'cause of this damned arranged marriage. I'd have a field day if you or your granddaddy dropped dead so I could go free but that isn't happening. So you're gonna have to fucking stick with it like I am and deal. And don't try to boss me around to act like a good little wife again 'cause I'm not havin' it! Try that again and I'll castrate you with a fucking butter knife!" _(2)

_Kai didn't seem to notice the way his hips moved back in an unconscious effort to protect himself from that statement, but Riley did and she gave him a feral grin._

"_I do what I want, when I want, how I want, where I want," she hissed, jabbing his chest with a finger for emphasis. "And nobody, not Richard, not your granddaddy, not you, can tell me otherwise. So fuck off."_

The burning fever that had clouded her mind began to wear off, her scorched mind struggling to return to its usual state, the process helped by her lack of protest. Even still, the memory stirred the embers of an old pain, one she had thought she had turned cold toward years ago.

_Fuck him, fuck him, _fuck him!

She didn't care anymore. She didn't feel, she moved to a rhythm she couldn't hear anymore. Her body followed the beat, bumping and grinding without a thought toward who her dance partner was.

The long coil of her hair whipped outward, wild bangs slicing at her cheeks and the lids of her eyes. Chains and straps swung, pulling her in a graceful arc. She pushed away from the scorching body that moved with her, circling her hips, head bowed as she swayed.

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the negative aura around her that destroyed any thoughts of dancing with her, clearing a path that gave her enough free space to move.

And she danced. She cut all of her inhibitions loose, shut down every thought that began to make its way across the clear plains of her mind. The music flowed through her, smoothly coursing through her blood, commanding her body without the slightest protest.

Johnny McGregor, as an outside observer, was entranced. Riley had always been a friend of his, someone he knew well enough to joke or call her on the phone (she never gave out her number unless she trusted you and it was hard as hell to get her to). He knew, to an extent, her moods and when to stay quiet or tease the life out of her. But now…now she was unreadable. Unreadable and completely transformed.

Gone was the spunky nineteen-year-old that was always shouting obscenities and/or threats. In her place was a young woman that caused the air around her to shimmer with heat, the other dancers clearing a path for her without even realizing they were doing it. She drew attention to herself like a flame drew moths. She always had. It was one of the things about her that was so appealing, especially when you realized she was completely oblivious to the fact.

Out on the dance floor, lights capturing her in tones of blue, yellow, purple, red, and green, she looked otherworldly, like something spun from a dream. The dragon tattoo on her side rippled with every move she made, seeming to stretch and curl on its own, nuzzling her skin. The huge pants should have looked ridiculous on her small frame, but she pulled it off, looking like the rebellious girl she was.

He was still surprised that she hadn't punched him the second his hands had come to rest on her hips. But then, just for a moment, he had seen her eyes and that had told him everything.

She was more than angry. She was livid.

Amethyst orbs with heavy lids, shadowed by long, dark lashes but still glowed with an old flame that would never die. Glowed to the point of smoldering. Shifting, endless depths of dark fire that seared through to her heart.

If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought that her heart had been broken.

* * *

_**Tsudzuku**_

_**

* * *

**_

(1) If anyone can tell me where that line is from I'll give 'em a cookie.

(2) A surprisingly effective way of getting a guy to back off...

That whole italicized bit was a flashback, by the way… One that took place just before the beginning of the chapter. Dunno why I wrote it that way, but my excuse is _'cause I wanna, dammit!_ And whatever the authoress says, goes, so there. Nyah! (pokes tongue out childishly)

It's all Kai's fault. It's always the man's fault. So says Ken Akamatsu-sensei.

I _really_ wanna draw Riley's outfit for this chapter… It is the sexiest thing _eva!_ I want it. And yeah, she's got a dragon tattoo. That's not just a thing from _Natural Selection_. XD

Super long chapter in the making! Until next time, my lovelies! Review!

– Midnight Insanity


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